


Fragile Passion

by fairyminseok



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Domestic, Fluff, Gross, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-06-09 18:44:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6918772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairyminseok/pseuds/fairyminseok
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Romantic is the last word Kyungsoo would ever use to describe himself with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fragile Passion

**Author's Note:**

> My first Baeksoo... and first time writing Kyungsoo's POV? Idk wtf happened I don't fluff I don't domestic I don't -

Romantic is the last word Kyungsoo would ever use to describe himself with. He's caring, he's practical, he's kind, he's a pretty good partner at the very least, but he's nowhere near a romantic. 

Baekhyun, on the other hand is a textbook romantic complete with sappy love confessions, an affinity for sunsets, holding hands at the beach and dramatic displays of public affection at the most inopportune times. 

Kyungsoo isn't a romantic, but Baekhyun is, and that's why Kyungsoo is here, in some brightly coloured flower shop trying to buy flowers. He has no idea what he's doing, doesn't particularly _like_ flowers, but he knows Baekhyun does. Flowers are pretty, sure, but the smell gives Kyungsoo headaches, and despite all the different colours, they all the same to him; petals, stems, whatever. 

"Valentine's Day flowers?" A voice booms in his ear, loud, deep, _obnoxious_ , and Kyungsoo can't help the instinctual recoiling that happens as he takes a full step away from the voice. 

"Uh," He says, glancing up at the source of the voice, a tall, ridiculously looking kid with a wide grin and _Park's Florals_ written on the pocket of his shirt. An employee. "I guess so?"

"What kind of person are they are for?" The employee asks in the same loud voice. Too cheerful. 

"Someone who knows about flowers," Kyungsoo answers with a sigh, pushing down the annoyance he feels for the sake of _Baekhyun_. "Like, he knows the symbolism so give me something that means something nice and I can pretend I thought of it?"

"What kind of relationship do you have?" The employee asks cheerfully, physically steering Kyungsoo around the corner and into another aisle. His annoyance is rising at being manhandled by some giant kid, and he feels like sneezing as they pass a rack of some purple looking shit that he thinks might be lilacs. Or lilies. Or lavender. They're all the same. 

"That's a bit personal... uhm-" Kyungsoo squints, trying to read the scrawled lettering on the employees nametag. "Chanheeyol.. sir."

"It's Chanyeol," The employee laughs, a guffaw that lasts three seconds too long for Kyungsoo's taste, and it rings in his ears like a shrill echo. "I can't help you if I don't know anything about your .. boyfriend? You said he right?"

"Yes," Kyungsoo mutters, reaching out to poke a bunch of flowers that look startlingly like cotton candy on a kebob. Baekhyun would probably have a fit over those, but for all Kyungsoo knows they could symbolize something terrible like death. "Um.. something that could represent a bad beginning but a good end? Like.. a miracle."

Kyungsoo mentally winces at his description. It makes him and Baekhyun sound _awful_ (though, to be honest, they really did have the worst introduction, the worst beginning). 

"Like a lotus flower," Chanyeol beams, like he expects Kyungsoo to understand, clapping him on the shoulder in an overly friendly way. Kyungsoo hates him. "But we don't have those so, uhm, maybe azaleas would do."

"What do those mean?" Kyungsoo asks in a polite voice, fixing a small smile onto his features and adjusting his glasses. 

"Well there's a lot of stuff about fragile passion," Chanyeol starts, and he laughs a beat too long again when he notices Kyungsoo's offended squint. "But there's also a meaning of taking care of someone else, and softness. It seems nice for something in the present. You want to move on from that bad beginning so why not give him flowers for the steady middle ground?"

Kyungsoo hates him a little less after his speech, growing a bit of respect for the knowledge this employee has on flower symbolism. He'll buy something, then. 

"I'll take some."

Chanyeol chatters about the other flowers they have on the way to the counter, looking positively enchanted by his own words and Kyungsoo tunes it out. He leans against the edge, waiting to pay so he can get the fuck out of here. 

"I hope he likes them," Chanyeol calls out as Kyungsoo walks -- sprints -- to the door. 

 

Kyungsoo hates these flowers,already. Hates the sickly sweet smell that comes out of the wrapping as he walks down the street, hates the self conscious way they make him feel; bright coloured... things that don't suit the aesthetic he brings with him. 

Still, he's a little bit pleased as he struggles to set them up in a vase in the middle of the rickety kitchen table. They need to get a new one soon when money isn't tight, maybe match it with the granite counters that had cost a fortune moving in. 

Project _do something romantic for once, fuck_ has half succeeded, and now Kyungsoo just needs to cook dinner and wait for Baekhyun to get off work. It's meticulously done, the setting of the table with cute napkins, a candle, the plates lined with flowers that usually stay in the back of the cupboard unused. 

Kyungsoo wants to gag looking at his creation. He doesn't feel himself, going to such lengths for the most romantic holiday of the year, but they've been together four years now, and he reckons that's probably important. 

(And really, Kyungsoo thinks, he should be the one getting the romantic treatment for managing to date _Byun Baekhyun_ for four years.)

Kyungsoo feels stiff and awkward when Baekhyun finally walks in the door, voice loud from the hallway. Maybe he can just hide, and watch Baekhyun marvel at the flowers and his immaculate table setting from around the corner. Maybe if he takes off his glasses he won't need to actually watch because he can't see and therefore can't be embarrassed. 

He fidgets with the dumb, tiny box in his hands before hiding it in his pocket. The final step of his plan and the worst part. Though maybe he can just throw it at Baekhyun and hope he says yes. 

A petal falls off one of the azaleas and Kyungsoo cringes, hyper aware of what could go _wrong wrong wrong_. He's reaching out to pick the nasty thing off the table and toss it out of the way when Baekhyun comes careening around the corner and into the kitchen like a puppy running for its owner.

Kyungsoo barely has time to hide the box before Baekhyun is in his lap, face flushed from some sort of alcohol and toothy smile obnoxious as he takes in the decorations and the flowers. 

He squeals like a teenager and Kyungsoo has half a mind to call off the entire thing. His romantic plan did not include drunk (at 6pm, _really?_ ) Baekhyun, and he's confused on how to proceed. 

"Uh," Kyungsoo says intelligently, before shaking himself off internally. It's _just Baekhyun_. "Hi?"

"You did this for me?" Baekhyun asks loudly, pointing at the flowers and adjusting himself in Kyungsoo's lap so that Kyungsoo's spine is digging painfully into the wood beams of the chair. Kyungsoo sighs, grabbing Baekhyun by the hips and shifting him so that they're both more comfortable. 

He's long since learned that it would be impossible to actually _remove_ Baekhyun, so he must settle with something.. less. 

"Well the florist helped," Kyungsoo says, hand on Baekhyun's chest to keep them a slight distance apart before he gets assaulted or molested. "And I called Lu Han and asked what to do."

"Hmm," Baekhyun hums, breath hitting Kyungsoo's face as he leans in (wine, definitely, lots of wine). Drunk Baekhyun means sloppy, annoying kisses, but it calms Kyungsoo with its familiarity, makes him feel less like he's somewhere he can't handle. Baekhyun pulls back with a slightly more sober grin, sliding from Kyungsoo's lap to pad over to the stove and poke the pot lids without opening them. 

He opens his mouth, probably to say something sappy, but Kyungsoo stops him, leaping to his feet to explain what they're eating. The only way to quiet Baekhyun is to talk more than him, a skill that Kyungsoo has magically developed after years of near silence. 

The box digs into his thigh and he remembers why he's doing this. _For Baekhyun_.

"I'm so lucky you love me," Baekhyun gets out in the brief moment of quiet, and Kyungsoo congratulates Baekhyun's restraint. He hasn't been pushed up against the fridge, or had his ass groped yet, and that's a small miracle. 

"You are," Kyungsoo deadpans, but a small grin breaks out against his own will, and lo and behold, he finds himself with his back against the fridge with Baekhyun's tongue down his throat. 

Kyungsoo gets distracted, gripping Baekhyun's arms and kissing him back, tongue mapping circles around Baekhyun's mouth, until Baekhyun's hands sliding underneath his shirt bring him back to reality. 

"Dinner before you try to assault me," Kyungsoo scolds, and Baekhyun pouts like a child.

"And what if you are my dinner," Baekhyun says with a wink, looking Kyungsoo up and down like he's never seen him before. 

"You're so annoying," Kyungsoo mutters, but he successfully steers Baekhyun to the table, sits him down and starts shoveling food onto their plates. It's nothing special, just fried rice, some peas, a chicken leg. 

Baekhyun beams at him in a way that reminds him annoyingly of the giant florist from earlier and Kyungsoo makes a mental note to _definitely_ never go back.

Dinner, at least is normal, with Baekhyun's work stories; Jongdae had smuggled white wine into the break room and the last hour of his shift had been spent giggling at paper planes rather than actually getting work done. 

Kyungsoo is rather appalled that he's seriously considering spending a lifetime with this Thing. 

It's when Baekhyun is gushing about Valentine's Day and the new glasses he'd found Kyungsoo the other day ("They'll come in the mail soon they're so cute") that Kyungsoo has the bravery to find the box in his pocket, apologizing to the bruise on his thighs. 

"Baekhyun," He interrupts, fidgeting with his hands under the table, eyes a little wider than normal. He tries to calm his breathing; It's just Baekhyun. He'll say yes, and then Kyungsoo will get great thank you sex and they'll have a happily ever after, hopefully with no flowers. 

"What's up?" Baekhyun asks around a mouthful of his second plate of rice, words muffled and a piece of rice _falling out of it_. Kyungsoo wrinkles his nose in fond disgust. 

"I need to ask you a very important question and I'd like you to not laugh at me or maul me," Kyungsoo says with a straight face. Either option is perfectly feasible, and he nearly growls when Baekhyun violates rule one immediately, laughing loudly and leaning forward across the table. 

"Are you finally asking me to marry you?" Baekhyun asks without one ounce of tact, smiling brightly. Kyungsoo's eyes widen comically, and he frowns.

"How did you know?" He asks, defeated. He slumps back in his chair, holding the box in his hands and chews on his lip. Kyungsoo had put a lot of work into this, with the planning and the flowers and asking Baekhyun's mother what kind of ring wouldn't be too ugly. 

"You didn't really hide the box," Baekhyun shrugs, not seeming to realize Kyungsoo's change of attitude. "I was hoping it would be today, and I was waiting for the right moment to stop you asking."

"What?" Kyungsoo blinks, confusion settling into his stomach with a kind of sharp twist. _he's saying no?_

"Because it's not fair of you to ask when I bought you a ring first," Baekhyun continues with a pout, reaching over to the chair next to him where he'd thrown his jacket to pull out his own box. "You're not allowed to go first if I bought this first."

Relief floods Kyungsoo's system like a tsunami, as does brief happiness and another feeling he can't recognize but doesn't particularly hate. He doesn't let any of this show though, just settles for an annoyed frown, crossing his arms. 

"You're stupid," Kyungsoo says childishly. "Just because I bought the ring after you doesn't mean I didn't plan it first."

Baekhyun gets to his feet, and though Kyungsoo wants to cringe, he's relieved, glad, can breathe a little lighter and possibly not have to be the one to kneel. He's been worrying about that aspect of proposing for like, a month. 

"You look like you're going to die," Baekhyun comments with a grin. "It's cute."

"You know I hate this stuff," Kyungsoo mumbles, and he's pretty sure he might be blushing, is at least thoroughly flustered by his entire day. 

"I can skip the sappy speech," Baekhyun says, and when Kyungsoo nods frantically, he vies for crawling back into Kyungsoo's lap instead of getting down on one knee. Baekhyun pulls a ring out of the box, an obnoxious one that Kyungsoo wishes he could accidentally flush down the toilet and slips it in Kyungsoo's ring finger. "I'll just save the speech for the wedding when we're surrounded by people."

"I could say no," Kyungsoo glares, but he's shoving his own box in Baekhyun's hands. Breathes evenly and wiggles his hand around. 

They're getting married. 

"So, marry me?" Kyungsoo manages to get out, figures he should ask the question, relaxes now that he's remembered it's Baekhyun and they've been dating for years and this isn't his high school crush. 

Anxiety works in strange ways. 

"Of course," Baekhyun breathes, before he surges forward to kiss Kyugsoo with the kind of energy only Baekhyun possesses. 

The chair topples backwards, and Kyungsoo briefly wonders if this is what Chanyeol had meant by _fragile passion._


End file.
